


Skin

by youresoawkward



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comeplay, Docking, First Time Hookup, Foreskin Play, Light Choking, M/M, Up All Night Tour, so light i don't even know if i should tag it but better safe than sorry i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 14:52:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6119932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youresoawkward/pseuds/youresoawkward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The air in Liam’s hotel room is cool. He’d say crisp even, if he were going to dwell on it, all from the relentless workings of the air conditioning vent near the ceiling. He can’t really dwell on it though, not when Zayn has followed him into the room and is pressing himself against Liam’s chest, lips warm and wet and eager against his own.</p><p>It’s early morning, the bus having driven them all night to a new city, and sunlight is pouring in through the large windows on the opposite wall from where they’re stood. </p><p>---</p><p>Or, Zayn and Liam hook up for the first time. Zayn is fascinated by Liam's foreskin, while Liam is self-conscious about it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skin

**Author's Note:**

> ok, so, i kinda imagine that this is set during uan, like the morning of vegas. but if you don't feel like getting in your time machine and going that far back, then i suppose it could be set during any tour with zayn
> 
> i found the docking much more difficult to write than i thought it would be, so i hope it makes sense! 
> 
> enjoy :)

The air in Liam’s hotel room is cool. He’d say crisp even, if he were going to dwell on it, all from the relentless workings of the air conditioning vent near the ceiling. He can’t really dwell on it though, not when Zayn has followed him into the room and is pressing himself against Liam’s chest, lips warm and wet and eager against his own.

It’s early morning, the bus having driven them all night to a new city, and sunlight is pouring in through the large windows on the opposite wall from where they’re stood. Zayn’s body is hard and hot against him, but all Liam can think is that they really need to draw the curtains, because he’s certain someone will see in; always feels like there are eyes on him these days.

When Liam pulls away from the kiss, Zayn’s lips try to follow him, eyes still closed and mouth still open, lips pouted. Liam places a gentle palm on his chest, pushing until Zayn takes a step back and opens his eyes.

“Sorry, I–” Zayn starts, looking chastened and moving farther away, nervously thumbing his lip. “I thought, y’know, after last night that— that this was okay.”

Last night. When Zayn climbed into Liam’s bunk for a cuddle that had ended with their mouths working against one another, slow and exploratory, before falling asleep curled together in the small space. He can still see the faint creases in Zayn’s cheek from the pillow case.

He shouldn’t have let it happen though, because there’s no going back. Not when he knows what Zayn’s mouth tastes like now. Knows how much Zayn liked it when he nibbled at his lips and then licked the sting away. And Liam’s fairly certain it will take him the rest of his lifetime to forget the feeling that settled in his chest when Zayn looked at him with soft, sleepy eyes and placed a chaste kiss against his lips with a whispered _goodnight_.

“Just want to get some privacy,” Liam says, walking to the windows and pulling the curtains closed. When he turns back, Zayn still looks unsure, arms crossed tight against his chest and weight shifting subtly between his feet.

“So, this is okay then?” Zayn asks, gesturing between them.

Liam nods before he can think better of it, wanting to wipe away Zayn’s insecurity even though the voice in the back of his head is telling him that he should stop this before it goes any further.

“Yeah?” Zayn asks, moving slowly toward him and looking lighter and less hesitant with every step.

The voice in Liam’s head quietens as Zayn gets closer, until he’s near enough to touch and Liam can’t remember why he was doubting this a moment ago. “Yeah,” Liam agrees. Zayn’s answering smile is wide, nose bunching and eyes crinkling before he kisses Liam again.

It’s different, kissing Zayn in the light of day. The slow laziness of the night before replaced with the hard press of their lips and Zayn’s hands fisting tightly in Liam’s shirt, Liam’s own hands resting light on Zayn’s hips.

Zayn’s tongue swipes insistent against his lips, and he parts them easily, letting it press against his own, massaging before Zayn pulls back to suck Liam’s bottom lip into his mouth.

He lets Zayn keep control; lets him brush their slick mouths together, lets him taste the back of his teeth with his tongue, and lets Zayn breathe against him when they both need a moment to slow their heartrates.

Zayn’s breath is hot against his skin, and when his tongue swipes out of his mouth to wet his own lips it catches against Liam’s as well. Liam groans before he moves in to lick urgently into Zayn’s mouth, hands coming up to cup his cheeks and noses bumping lightly. His palms catch against the stubble that’s cropped up on Zayn’s cheeks since the night before and he holds Zayn’s face steady so he can taste him proper.

He’s so lost in the feel of Zayn’s lips against his own that it takes him a moment to notice that Zayn’s fists are pulling his shirt up, fabric bunching under his arms in Zayn’s attempt to get it off.

The wet sound of their mouths separating rings loudly in the quiet of the room and heat pools in Liam’s belly as he lifts his arms so that Zayn can pull the shirt over his head, dropping it onto the carpeted floor.

“Shit, Liam. You’re so fit,” Zayn breathes, fingers trailing down his chest, Zayn’s eyes drinking him in, and Liam can feel his dick twitch under Zayn’s gaze.

His heart pounds wildly in his chest as it really sinks in that _Zayn_ is undressing him. Zayn. His bandmate. His _best_ mate. Zayn, whose nails are scratching gentle against his skin and whose fingers are tracing along the band of his sweats, dipping under the elastic.

“Maybe we should sleep,” Liam says, rushed, hands coming up to stop Zayn’s roving fingers. Zayn freezes, posture stiffening and eyes going wide before he’s looking away, hurt etched into his features. “It’s just— well. We have to be back downstairs in a few hours, a-and we didn’t sleep much last night…”

Liam feels his face heat at the implication and he drops his hands from Zayn’s with a shrug.

“If you don’t want me, Liam, you can just say so,” Zayn replies, eyes flicking up to meet Liam’s, his fingertips still resting hot against Liam’s skin.

“No,” Liam says, swallowing against the thickness in his throat and shaking his head quickly, a reflex, because nothing could be further from the truth. It’s not a question of whether he wants Zayn, the itch in his fingertips that’s willing him to touch and the heaviness of his prick both tell him that he does. It’s more a question of if he should. “It’s just, I’m the one who’s gonna have to listen to your grumpy arse complain all day about how tired you are, yeah? I’m trying to save myself the headache.” He laughs to try and break some of the tension between them, but his smile dies quickly when Zayn doesn’t join in.

Zayn studies him, expression inscrutable, before he speaks. “Do you want me, Liam?”

Every nerve in his body is screaming _yes_ but he’s finding it impossible to get his lips to form the word, his brain tripping over the concept, leaving him silent for several moments.

Zayn nods, hands dropping to his sides and turning away when Liam doesn’t speak. Wetness lines Zayn’s eyes and Liam wishes he could convince himself it’s just a trick of the light.  

“Alright,” Zayn says, voice tight. “I’ll get out of your hair then.”

He takes a step toward the door, shoulders hunched, and fear floods Liam’s veins because if Zayn leaves now he’s not sure what that’ll mean for them. “Wait,” he says, hands reaching for Zayn, fingers catching around his wrist. “Don’t. Please, don’t go.”

Zayn stops and doesn’t pull out of Liam’s loose grasp. But he also doesn’t look back. Keeping his head bowed and his eyes trained on the floor.

“Do you want me?” he asks again, voice barely a whisper, but it still resounds loudly against Liam’s eardrums.

Liam hesitates again, and Zayn pulls away, wrist slipping out of Liam’s grasp and shaking his head as he continues toward the door.

“Wait,” he repeats, voice desperate but Zayn’s still moving away. “Yes.” It comes out breathy, quiet, but Zayn stops dead, turning slowly to face him once more.

“Say it then.” Zayn’s face is stoic but his voice waivers at the end, betraying him.

Liam takes a breath and licks the dryness from his lips before replying. “I—I want you.” His heart is in his throat and his pulse is racing as he steps into Zayn’s space, hands coming to rest on his hips. “Please don’t leave.”  

Zayn's eyes are clouded with apprehension, even as he lifts his hand to palm against Liam's cheek. Liam turns into the warmth, lips brushing against the thin skin of Zayn's wrist; it's intimate and tender and his heart feels heavy with something he can't quite pinpoint as he pleads with his eyes for Zayn to stay.

Zayn studies him for a beat longer before making his decision and closing the distance between their lips. Liam curls his fingers tightly over Zayn's clothed hips while Zayn holds his face steady, tongue pressing into his mouth.

He moans quietly against Zayn's lips when Zayn presses his thigh between his legs, and his first instinct is to pull his hips back so Zayn can’t feel how turned on he is from a bit of kissing. But Zayn is hard too, his prick resting insistent against Liam’s hip and the realisation calms the nerves bubbling in his stomach. He rocks his hips experimentally against the hard line of Zayn's thigh, his cock filling more with each press of his hips.

Liam’s lips are sore when Zayn breaks the kiss to mouth along his jaw and down his neck, stopping to suck against his pounding pulse point. Distantly it crosses Liam's mind that he should stop Zayn from leaving a mark, but Zayn's mouth feels too good against him and he tips his head back to give Zayn more room.

Zayn's breath is harsh against his skin where he licks over the bruise that’s forming on his neck. He's so warm and Liam just wants him closer. He reaches down to cup Zayn's bum, slotting his own leg between Zayn's, feeling the hard line of his cock through the material of their trousers.

"Zayn." It comes out as a moan when Zayn rolls his hips against his thigh, every inch of Zayn's cock burning hot against him, and Liam feels powerful with it, knowing he did that. That Zayn's hard because of him.

Zayn pulls his lips away from Liam's throat, cold air meeting the wet his mouth leaves behind and Liam shivers, goose bumps breaking across his skin. Their eyes meet when Zayn straightens up, his eyelids heavy with lust and pupils almost eclipsing the delicate hazel Liam loves so much. Zayn bites his lip and keeps his eyes trained on Liam as his fingers trail down Liam's chest, over his abdomen, stopping to cup him through his trackies.

Deft fingers feel out the shape of his cock, squeezing gentle. "You're so big," Zayn says, eyes shifting to watch his own hand feel along Liam's length. "Wanna see you."  

Liam hums out a groan and Zayn hooks his fingers under the elastic of his bottoms, pushing them over his hips until they fall to pool around his ankles. Zayn does the same for his briefs and Liam steps out of them gingerly while Zayn looks him over with hungry eyes.

"Forgot you're not cut," Zayn says, hand circling the base of Liam's prick and pulling his fist up tight so Liam's foreskin bunches at the tip. He slides his hand back down again, exposing the wet head of Liam's cock and causing a whimper to fall past his lips. "‘S'hot."

He fights the blush that rises on his cheeks at Zayn's words while Zayn pumps him steadily, the pink head of his dick disappearing into his foreskin on each pass and the precum bubbling from his slit slicking the slide against the sensitive gland.

"You ever play with it?" Zayn asks, thumbing over the excess skin as it gathers at the tip of his prick.

Liam used to hate the extra skin that covered his cock. Hated that he looked different than all the men he'd see in porn, the men whose foreskins pulled tightly around them, barely noticeable when they were excited. He hated that his foreskin covered him completely, even when he was hard. He hated that it was another thing that made him feel different.

The first girl that ever touched him had squealed in disgust when she wrapped her hand around his dick; said he felt weird in her hand and asked him why there was so much _extra_. Her words had made him lose his erection. He didn't let anyone touch him for a while after that.

Now he doesn't feel as bad as he once did about the way he looks, but he still doesn't like to think on it too much.

"What d'you mean?"

Zayn shrugs, hand still pumping him slowly. "Like, you every play under it? Or stretch it out?"

Liam bites his lip. Usually, he tries his best to keep it out of the way when he's having sex, both with himself and others. He’s never really considered his foreskin to be anything more than an obstacle.

"Not really, no.”

"Too bad," Zayn says. “Bet it feels amazing.”

Liam shrugs, not knowing how to tell Zayn that nothing related to his foreskin has ever felt amazing.

“Do I have to be the only one in the room without pants?” he asks instead.

Zayn smirks, hands moving to his hips, and his fingers searching under the hem of the loose white vest he’s wearing to find the lip of his basketball shorts. Before Zayn can pull them down, Liam covers Zayn’s hands with his own. “Let me?” he asks and Zayn nods and untangles their fingers, resting his hands at Liam’s shoulders.

Liam’s fingers play over the warm skin of Zayn’s hips, dipping his fingertips under the elastic and trailing his hands down Zayn’s sides, taking the shorts with them. He has to stifle a moan when he sees that Zayn’s not wearing any pants, his hard length bobbing out of the confines of the shorts as they fall to the ground, and Zayn steps out of them and kicks them away.

Heat settles in his gut as he looks at Zayn’s prick, never having seen him like this before. His dick hard and wet and flushed a pretty pink. The urge Liam has to taste him makes his mouth water.  

“Liam?” Zayn asks hesitantly, breaking him out of his daydream. “You okay?”

“God, yes,” Liam groans, pulling Zayn closer and wrapping a hand around his cock. The weight and shape of him feels foreign to his hand, and he takes his time to map Zayn out, palming slowly up his length before thumbing over the head, liking the smooth feel of a prick without the extra skin.

Liam presses his lips to the corner of Zayn’s mouth and then down his jaw while he continues to work him off slowly. Zayn’s hands find their way to his head, long fingers buried deep in Liam’s hair, and small gasps and sighs leave Zayn’s lips with each twist of Liam’s wrist.

The fingers of Liam’s free hand tease along the knots of Zayn’s spine, hand moving under the thin cotton of his shirt, feeling over warm skin before trailing back down to cup Zayn’s bum. He tucks his chin over Zayn’s shoulder and pulls him closer, fingertips pressing into the flesh of one of Zayn’s pert arse cheeks. A quiet moan escapes Zayn’s lips and his hips jump in pleasure. Liam strokes him quicker at that, kneading against the flesh of Zayn’s backside, and pressing his own arousal against Zayn’s hip for relief.

Liam slips a finger between Zayn’s cheeks, feeling down until he finds the hot, plush heat of Zayn’s hole and lets his fingertip ghost over the spot. Zayn whines, fingers tightening against Liam’s scalp as more wetness escapes the tip of his prick. Zayn’s so wet for it that it eases the slide of Liam’s hand against him.

Liam pulls his finger away and brings the digit to his lips, wetting it before pressing back between the warmth of Zayn’s cheeks. He teases the wet pad of his finger around Zayn’s rim, mimicking on Zayn the things that Liam likes on himself. When he presses against him, Zayn’s tight heat opens up easily for the tip of his finger, but Zayn hisses and jerks out of Liam’s grasp.

“Shit. Fuck, stop. Stop,” Zayn pants, and Liam pulls his hands away from Zayn like he’s been burnt.

“I—I’m sorry! Shit, Zayn, did I—did I hurt you? I shouldn’t have—”

Zayn shakes his head. “Just don’t wanna cum yet,” Zayn says, and Liam’s heart climbs out of his throat as he realises that Zayn is okay.

Liam takes a moment to redirect his thoughts, eyes skimming over Zayn, taking him in. He’s gripping his prick tightly at the base, his eyes dark with arousal and his lips wet and kiss reddened. The vest he’s still wearing has shifted so that one of his lithe shoulders hangs out of the loose collar and, to Liam, he looks like sex in human form.

“Then what do you want?” Liam asks, fisting his hands in the front of Zayn’s shirt and pulling him back in close.

Zayn bites his lip, hands resting over Liam’s chest. “I want—,” he sighs, brow furrowing as he thinks over his words. “Can I just show you?”

Liam agrees and Zayn steps back from him a bit. He runs his hands down the length of Liam’s torso and curls a fist around his cock, pulling back Liam’s foreskin and exposing the engorged gland underneath. Zayn keeps a steady hand on him while he shuffles forward, bringing the tip of his own prick toward Liam's until they’re touching, tip to tip.

“Fuck, Zayn. What’re you—,” Liam stops short, groaning when Zayn strokes his hand up Liam's length slowly.

“I wanna know what it feels like,” he says, eyes focused on where their dicks are pressed together, his hand rolling Liam’s foreskin under his palm, the extra skin easily encasing the head of Zayn’s prick, and then some.

Liam shivers at the feel of Zayn’s cockhead under his foreskin. It feels rougher, different, _better_. The sensations so much more pronounced now that he’s stretched taut over unfamiliar skin.

Zayn hums in pleasure, fingers of one hand holding the foreskin tight while his other rubs over them slowly, getting a feel for it. His nimble fingers massage the head of his own dick through Liam’s skin, a groan falling from his lips and his head tilting back. Liam wants to lick the column of his throat and taste the grooves of his Adam’s apple, but he’s too far away like this. He reaches up to palm against Zayn’s neck instead, fingers curling into his hairline, feeling the bob of Zayn’s throat against his hand. “It’s so good,” Zayn moans, his fingers still rubbing insistent against them.

Wet leaks from Zayn’s cock, the slick building between them, easing the glide of Liam’s skin over them both. The slit of Liam’s dick catches on Zayn’s under the wet veil of his foreskin, and Liam’s hand tightens inadvertently against Zayn’s throat, a needy groan falling past his lips when Zayn’s hips jerk and his eyes go impossibly dark.

Liam lets his hand fall from Zayn’s neck to his shoulder while his other hand comes up to help Zayn hold his foreskin tight against Zayn’s prick, keeping them sealed together. Zayn presses his hips forward, his thick cockhead slipping past Liam’s, stretching the skin more, the outline of Zayn’s head obvious under the taut skin.

The head of Zayn’s dick is rough against his own and he grips the base of his prick, circling his length so the head rubs all the way around Zayn’s, slippery skin pressed tightly together. Zayn whimpers and sighs with each pass Liam’s prick makes around his, free hand jerking off the base of his dick, bumping against where Liam’s fingers hold the end of his foreskin tight.

Sparks of pleasure prickle across Liam’s skin, sensations he’s never experienced before making him feel like’s on the edge.

“Gonna cum,” Zayn pants, the muscles of Zayn’s abdomen fluttering and his hand working faster. “Wanna do it like this.”

“Yeah,” Liam agrees, tightening a hand around their heads, jerking them over his skin. “Go on.”

Zayn nods, brow furrowing and eyes closing while his hand moves in smooth strokes. His mouth falls open when he orgasms, a deep moan rumbling in his throat and warm cum flooding the cocoon of Liam’s foreskin. Liam rubs him through it, feeling Zayn’s slick coating his prick and wanting to add to it, but not being able to get there yet.

Zayn pushes Liam’s hands away, his own fist circling them both as he pulls his length out of the sheath of Liam’s foreskin. He pinches the skin tight as his dick slides away, some cum dribbling out but the majority staying inside. Zayn falls to his knees gracefully, lips sucking against the bunched up skin, lapping the errant drops of his own cum onto his tongue.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Liam moans, watching as Zayn slowly pulls his foreskin back, the cum dripping into his waiting, pink mouth and Zayn swallows it eagerly. His hand fists forward, covering Liam’s head again with his foreskin and Zayn’s fingertip teases against the opening before pushing inside, circling it around the tip of Liam’s cock.

“Zayn, please,” Liam whimpers, and he’s not even sure what he’s asking for, but Zayn smiles like he understands and brings his mouth up to join his finger, tongue licking at the remnants of cum the digit is pushing out before sliding in next to it.

Zayn takes his finger out and swirls his tongue around the swollen head of Liam’s cock, the outline of it clear under his skin and Liam swears he’s never seen anything more erotic. A warm hand encloses his dick, rolling back his extra skin and Zayn wraps slick lips around the head. He teases, letting soft lips play along Liam’s skin before slowly sinking down. Zayn’s hand holds steady against the base of Liam’s prick, heavy tongue pressing along the underside as he starts to bob his head.

Zayn sucks him with an ease and confidence that comes with practice, and Liam tries not to think about the men that have obviously come before him. He focuses instead on the velvet warmth of Zayn’s mouth and the way his cheeks hollow around him, his sharp cheekbones more pronounced than Liam’s ever seen them.

Liam palms against Zayn’s jaw, his thumb trailing along his bottom lip, wiping away the spit that’s drooling from Zayn’s mouth. His other hand threads into Zayn’s thick hair, scratching gentle against his scalp, and he’s rewarded with Zayn moaning around his prick and sinking his lips down farther.

Zayn’s hand leaves the base of his prick and settles on Liam’s hip instead, giving his lips room to take in more of him, and Liam stays still, letting Zayn decide how much to take, his muscles taut from the effort of not fucking into the tight heat of Zayn’s throat.

Zayn bobs his head with steady, smooth strokes, taking more with each pass until Liam feels the tip of his prick bump against the back of Zayn’s throat.

“Zayn,” he moans, his balls tightening in pleasure as his orgasm builds in his gut.

Zayn pulls back before sucking Liam down again, his fingers tightening on Liam’s hip, pulling him closer until the head of his cock is sitting deep in Zayn’s convulsing throat, choking himself on the hard length, tears lining his eyes.

“Fuck, Zayn. I’m gonna cum,” Liam warns, and Zayn pulls back, suckling at the head and pumping a tight fist along Liam’s cock.

Pleasure rolls over Liam’s skin as he cums across Zayn’s waiting tongue, letting his hand fall from Zayn’s face to his neck, thumbing along the skin there and feeling his throat working to swallow his load.

Zayn pulls off when Liam finishes, spit and cum messy around his red, swollen mouth, and eyes wet from the strain. Liam cups Zayn’s cheek, thumb catching a dribble of white at the corner of his mouth and pushing it back inside, an eager tongue and plush lips sucking the digit clean.

Liam extracts his thumb and Zayn wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking up at Liam through thick lashes. “Was that alright?” Zayn asks, voice rough and a small smile on his face that tells Liam he knows good and well that it was more than alright.

“Perfect,” Liam answers honestly, holding out his palm for Zayn to take so he can help him to his feet, and Liam doesn’t let go, not even once Zayn’s standing in front of him again. He lets their fingers tangle together instead. “What does this mean?”

Zayn’s eyes are hooded and tired, but he gives Liam a concerted stare, studying him before replying. “It means we got off together,” he shrugs, face blank. Liam takes a step back, Zayn’s hand falling away from his, and he tries not to let his heart drop at the words. “Need a shower. Can I?” Zayn asks, brows raised in question.

“Yeah. Course.”

Zayn turns, heading toward the en suite, small arse peeking out from underneath the shirt he’s still wearing. Liam tries not to stare, but he fails miserably. Zayn stops when he reaches the door to the bathroom, looking over his shoulder. “You coming?” His tone is casual but Liam can’t ignore the nervous way his fingers pull at the hem of his shirt.

And this time, Liam doesn’t waste time hesitating; he refuses to give himself a moment to overthink it, relying on his gut instead.

“Okay,” he replies, and Zayn’s answering smile is all that matters. The feeling it gives him searing itself into his heart. Because in this moment it’s just him and Zayn, and nothing else feels as important as that.

The rest he’ll just have to figure out later.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://bisexvalziam.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [tumblr drabbles](http://youresoawkward.tumblr.com/)


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